Chapter 38
Guinevere
Ready or not, it’s time for me to face Melantha.
The people of Erenvold cannot wait longer, and while that is a weight on my mind, my real reason for not delaying is far more selfish.
I cannot stand the thought of her calling Alaric away from me, of seeing him under her control once more.
His words to me when I had him tied up here all those nights ago ring in my ears, reminding me that it’s only a matter of time.
When she calls, he won’t be able to resist.
So with regret, I pull myself from the arms of my lovers and slide from the bed. Alaric sits immediately on alert. “Where are you going?”
I don’t answer him right away. Instead I go to the chests in the corner and lift the lid on the first one I reach. It’s full of dresses in sumptuous velvet and silk. I close it. Those are not what I need right now.
Opening each one in turn, I eventually find the chest containing the prince’s clothes. When I withdraw the hose and tunic and pull them on, Alaric speaks again.
“Guin, you are not ready.”
“I must be ready.” I do not turn around. I finish dressing and search for my boots.
“Guin, are you listening to me? If anything were to happen to you…” He trails off, and I look to catch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.
By now the gargoyles are stirring too, rising from the bed to sit or stand watching me. Raban’s sad expression twists at my guts. “He is right. Must you go?”
“No,” Alaric interjects. “She must not.”
I glare at him which only makes him glare right back.
“I will gladly be your servant and whipping boy everywhere else, but when it comes to your safety, princess, I will not stay silent.”
He won’t back down either. I can see as much in the stubborn set of his shoulders. The sky outside the open window is already beginning to lighten. There isn’t much time before my gargoyles must sleep again. “I have made my choice,” I tell him.
“You are impossible.” With a growl, he begins hunting for his clothes, drawing on his trousers. I call my gargoyles to me, reaching up to press kisses on their cheeks and whisper in their ears. I know they won’t like it, but they will obey me. Of that I have no doubt.
Raban is last to lean in for a kiss. As he does, I show him the stone pendant tucked against my breast. “I will keep you with me always. Take care of him for me.”
He nods. “Of course.”
Alaric looks up surprised from pulling on his boot when I touch his cheek. Some of the ire drops from his expression as my fingertips slide gently over his cool skin. “If anything were to happen to you, I could not stand it. So I have to go alone.”
Tenderness turns to understanding, and he launches to his feet, but it’s too late. évandre, Corvin, and Raban have him. They pin his arms behind his back and loop a belt around his ankles, and though he fights them, he can’t overpower all three of them.
“No Guin. I can help you!”
I give him a sad smile. “I will not let her use you again.” I stretch up on my toes to give him a final kiss, then I turn away before my resolution fails me.
Strapping my sword to my back and drawing on a hooded cloak, I hurry down the stairs and out of the castle.
I look up at my gargoyles who jump one by one from the tower window to fly to their perches as the horizon turns pink.
As I near the gates, I tear my eyes away from Raban and Corvin’s sorrowful expressions with guilt.
Then a shout echoes from behind me where they must have tied Alaric to the bed. “Do not leave me behind!”
Hurriedly I brush a tear from my cheek, put my head down, and hasten from Havenrock lest the guilt I feel weaken my willpower. For better or worse, I will face Melantha alone. I will find Alaric’s heart and free him from her. Then finally I will destroy her before she destroys everything I love.
This time I know what the strange chittering sound means, so when the cobweb brushes my cheek, I already have my sword drawn. The giant spider still catches me by surprise, scuttling from around a tree trunk, jointed fangs dripping with venom.
It’s fast too. I wonder how I managed to escape newly undead, unaware of what I was.
I barely swing the sword in time to cut short its attack, and the spider easily dodges my blade, darting around on eight furry legs to my left.
All the time it continues its unnerving call, making my eyes dart around, searching for more of the creatures.
I dodge a bolt of sticky web and duck under a low branch, thrusting my sword again, but the creature backs away too quickly. It scurries away only to jump at me from another tree the moment I think it’s gone, snapping its fangs angrily.
This time my blow connects, swiping off a front leg, and the creature screams. It redoubles its efforts, darting in, nearly catching my arm before I jump back.
My heel slips on a patch of leaves and I nearly tumble over, but I right myself and duck as the spider snatches at thin air with its remaining foreleg.
As it misses me, I spot my chance. I thrust my sword upward, stabbing into the soft underbelly of the monster, grimacing when thick black blood spurts out, nearly coating my arm.
The blood hisses as it hits the ground, eating away at the leaves and plants it lands on.
The spider lands heavily in the dirt, twitching.
It takes me far too long to realize the chittering has not ceased.
A moment later I jump to my feet and dodge out of the way when another long furry leg swipes at me.
I sprint between trees, putting space between me and the second spider, only to come face to face with a third.
The monster hisses, opening its fangs. I throw myself to the side, into a thorny bush but out of the way of its venomous bite.
The second spider rears back, raising two legs in the air.
I have one moment to focus my mind and call to whatever lies just beneath the ground.
Then I’m running again, sprinting to keep ahead of the monsters who are both chasing me.
If Alaric was here, I’m certain he would have made short work of the spiders. He would already have been wiping his blade clean and smirking at me. I have a pang of wishing I had brought him before I remember the reason I did not.
There’s a skeleton nearby, a wolf’s carcass, mostly rotten, the bone exposed in many places. As I call to it, it rises, jaws hanging open, lumbering toward the spiders.
They hiss, rearing back to stare at the zombie wolf. Then they dart for it, and it waits patiently, enduring their bites and swipes.
That’s my chance. I plunge my sword into the spider on the right, aiming between one of its four sets of eyes. Too late it raises a foreleg, and my blade sinks deep.
The other one is coming, though, having realized the wolf poses no threat. I tug at my sword, but it won’t budge. Stubbornly, I refuse to give up. With a final yank, it pulls most of the way out and the creature drops to the ground, dragging my sword down too.
The third spider screeches, about to strike.
I push the wolf to latch on with its jaws around a hind leg, dragging on the spider, holding it back just long enough for me. With a yell, I haul my sword from the head of the dead spider and drive it straight into the abdomen of the other.
It pauses, pinned on my weapon. It blinks slowly, all its eyes out of time with the others.
Then it gurgles, curls up, and drops dead on the dirt.
I pull my sword free, grimacing at the black sticky blood that coats it. I wipe it, stowing it away again and continuing on. My task calls me on even as my heart calls me back to Havenrock.